A Matter of Strength
by LuvEwan
Summary: Obi-Wan is battling a severe, mysterious illness while Anakin races to find a cure. But does the young master want to be saved?


Title: A Matter of Strength

Author: LuvEwan

E-mail: ewansmylove@yahoo.com

Spoilers: TPM, technically JA series

Fandom: Star Wars

Category: Angst

Rating: G

Summary: Obi-Wan is a young master training the supposed 'chosen one'. But his true wishes are revealed when he falls victim to a mysterious, perhaps deadly, illness that leaves him locked in a world of dreams and memories. Anakin is out to save him, but does Obi-Wan really want to be saved?

Age: 29

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker had been huddled around a protocol droid- similar to the amusing C-P30 he had left behind on Tatooine four years before. It belonged to a Jedi master who had been injured during a dangerous mission, and required the service of such a machine.

Its system was malfunctioning, and Anakin was rumored the best mechanic in all the Temple, so he was left to find the defect.

When he removed the switchboard to gaze into the innards of the droid, the umpteen wires and parts reminded him of the condition he had left Three-pio in. He wondered if he would ever return to that desert planet, where his mother Shmi remained a prisoner of the despicable Watto, again. It wasn't that he missed the lifestyle he had led, because that was perhaps the only part he enjoyed about leaving Tatooine. But, of course, he ached for his mother constantly. While his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was a trusting friend and perhaps the closest he would ever have to a true father, Shmi was his mother, no one could replace her. With her so far from him, it felt as though someone had torn a piece of his heart from his chest. He hoped someday he could reclaim it when he freed her from the clutches of slavery. Four years ago, tears clouding his sight, sobs wracking his body, he had promised his mother he would be back for her. And he always kept his promises.

There were times where he would be lying back on his sleepcouch, staring out into the night sky, and would think of Queen Amidala of the Naboo. He had not seen her- much less made contact with her- since that fateful attack on her sovereign planet four years ago. He pictured her perfect face, minus the concealing white makeup, her hair slicked back into a complicated hair style for battle. Brown eyes glittering, smile bright and beautiful. Her voice, like an angel gently humming a melodious song. He felt she had some understanding of who he was- not just a boy with more medi-chlorians than even the great master Yoda- but the person living inside him. The boy named Anakin. Not the former slave. Not the Jedi Skywalker, with talents no one had seen before. And he understood who Amidala was. She wasn't merely a queen, but a glorious human being. A smart, fun girl. He would dream of the times they had had together.

And imagine the times yet to come.

Because he had a feeling he would be with her once more. Some day.

A sad note was struck in the instrument of his soul when he remembered the Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, who had saved his very life by freeing him of the title of slave four years ago. He had not seen him die, had not witnessed the horror that his master, barely twenty five at the time, had. But his eyes had set upon the ugly creature, the Sith lord, when he had appeared as if from thin air in the hangar bay on Theed. The gruesome red and black which tattooed his horned head would haunt him for the rest of his life. And he knew it would disturb, plague his master for even longer.

His master, Obi-Wan. He guessed he thought about him most of all. He had been with Obi-Wan for four years, but he had yet to know him. Because his master evidently didn't want to be known.. The skin of ice he kept around himself, maybe to protect himself from being hurt again, Anakin was worried it would never melt. He vividly recalled Qui-Gon talking to him, from the dead, a year ago on the rogue planet Zonama Sekot. He had told Anakin Obi-Wan was so hard to talk to. 

Anakin was determined to discover why that was so.

His master. Obi-Wan was resting while Anakin worked somewhat sluggishly on the protocol droid. While the mission they recently returned from had not been a very trying one, most things had gone smoothly, Obi-Wan had been displaying odd behavior.

Though Anakin tried to dismiss it as a simple bout with weariness, it was peculiar, to be sure.

"Yes!!" Anakin exclaimed, taking a small tool and cutting loose a gray, ruined cord. It had caused the problems with the normally good-natured droid. He grinned, discarding the cord and re-securing the switch panel with ease.

He observed the droid at arm's length, finding it to be better than satisfactory. 

He stood it up, pulled the switch on, and guided the somewhat confused droid back to its owner.

After a heartfelt thank you from the Jedi master, Anakin was returning to the quarters he shared with Obi-Wan in the Jedi temple. The corridor was even tranquil here, Anakin noticed happily.

He opened the door, and saw his master bent over a collection of various items. His hand was clinging to the close-cropped ginger hair on his forehead, frustration visible in the lines of his body. He didn't look up when his padawan entered.

"Master, what are you doing?" The puzzled apprentice asked, taking a seat beside Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan bit his lip. "I'm trying to locate a holo-pad...but I can't seem to find it." His formal speaking manner had been virtually abandoned, Anakin noted uneasily, adding to the already growing list of strange actions of his master.

"Oh." Anakin leaned across the table, scanning the objects littering it. He saw the holo-pad in question was right under his master's nose. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, he retrieved it from the pile and handed it to his master. 

"Oh." Obi-Wan echoed the word, taking the holo-pad from his apprentice. "Thank you, padawan."

Anakin watched his master fiddle with it, until suddenly, he felt a wave in the Force. It trumpeted a warning. But what was to happen?

At that moment, Obi-Wan collapsed, his head flopping on the table.

Anakin's eyes went wide, and he jumped from his chair and came beside his master. "Master! Master!" He called close to his ear, then took to shaking his shoulder. Obi-Wan gave no response.

Anakin didn't hesitate, and flew from the apartment, screaming for someone to help him, and his fallen master.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker couldn't visualize a life without his master. He didn't want to. He wasn't sure he could go on with his Jedi training if Obi-Wan were gone. He let out a shuddering sigh.

But he had come chillingly close to it today.

At the sounds of his shouting, several members of staff had came running, eager to help. He had led them to his master, who was pale as a ghost, and too still.

They whisked Obi-Wan away to the medical center, one pulling Anakin along by the arm. They questioned him, asking what had happened.

When he told them, they seemed alarmed. And he easily read people.

So he sat on a chair in the waiting room, hoping his master was all right.

* * *

Anakin wiped his sweaty palms on his tunic, noticing the trembling in his hands. A medic opened the door to the room containing his master. The woman's face was solemn, and it scared Anakin to death.

"What is it...What's wrong with him?" He asked, swallowing the fear disguised as a lump in his throat.

"We believe he has been infected with a virus of some kind, which would explain the abnormal behavior you have described to us. While we have yet to give it a clear definition, I am suspicious he caught it on your last mission. Refresh my memory, if you will. Where exactly did you go?" 

"Well, the planet doesn't have a name right now." Anakin told her, watching her eye brow rise. "It just ended a long war, and they are starting over completely. Even the title has to be altered."

The medic sat beside him. "Okay, then what was it called before? Do you know?"

"Yeah, I think it was, um," He paused, trying to pick out the name from the dozens he had heard on his many adventures with his master. "Uh, it was Murrif, yeah, Murrif."

"Murrif?" She repeated.

He nodded his confirmation.

She gave a forced smile, squeezed hi shoulder, and went back into the room.

Anakin heard his master groan, and felt his own stomach turn.

* * *

As the lights in Coruscant cast a familiar glow on the planet's buildings, Anakin stood. He had finally been called in to see Obi-Wan. As he expected, he slept a wink during the long night. While he was awake those agonizingly long hours, he shivered at the thought of his master suffering. The picture of Obi-Wan, head against the top of the table, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, skin a frightening pallor, kept his eyes from even shutting. 

Anakin trudged into the room, his eagerness to see his master masked by his exhaustion. But his master appeared more tired than he was. Black circles surrounded his eyes, now a dull green. His chest was the only indication he was alive, for it slowly made the movements of breathing. His inhalations were startling to hear, ragged and full of effort. Obi-Wan's hair was matted with sweat, swiped back most likely by a medic. Because he looked too weak to even lift his arm.

When Anakin reached his master's bed, Obi-Wan turned his head a tad bit. He gasped at the pain from the tiny action. He attempted a smile purely for his apprentice's benefit, but flinched.

A medic entered, holding a clipboard. "He hasn't fared much better since last night, I'm afraid. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to find the cause of his illness. It's quite a mystery, actually."

The way she delivered the last sentence disgusted Anakin, as though she found some pleasure in Obi-Wan's unknown ailment, like it was some puzzle to solve. He couldn't quite keep the irritation and dislike from darkening his voice. "So you have no way to treat it?"

She shook her head. 

"So what, you're just going to let him suffer?" He accused, eyes narrowed.

"Basically, yes. We could sedate him, so he wouldn't feel the pain....but that's about it."

Anakin looked up at her for the first time, a tear threatening to fall from his eye.

"How much pain will there be? I mean, how much has he been in already?" He asked, knowing the answer would cause himself more pain than the healer could fathom.

"An incredible amount, I'm sorry to say. As you can see, he is an agony when he is simply trying to breathe." She laid a hand on Obi-Wan's ankle. "If you don't mind, someone has to stay with him at all times, in case of the unexpected."

Anakin nodded. "Of course I will stay."

"Good." She moved to the door. "Because, everything that is happening to him is completely unexpected." She shut it behind her, leaving Anakin with his master.

At that moment, Anakin felt a hate for the medic he couldn't explain. Her calm! Didn't she understand the universe was crumbling! "Master." He said softly, resting his hand on Obi-Wan's arm. "Master, can you hear me?"

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered, and he wet his chapped lips. "I-I can always hear you, padawan." His voice sounded hoarse and was nothing more than a whisper. 

Anakin smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't notice this sooner." He looked at his feet, ashamed.

Obi-Wan smiled faintly, sighing. "I-It's not your fault. I should have told you I was feeling sick." He closed his eyes. "I just d-didn't think it was that im-important."

"But master, you're important!" Anakin told him, pressing the back of his hand against Obi-Wan's forehead. "And you're warm. You've got a fever?"

"I don't kn-know. I have everything else, w-why not a fever?" He chuckled pitifully.

Anakin's lip trembled at the sad humor. "Master, do you remember anything biting you on our mission, an insect or something?" He asked, pulling the covers around Obi-Wan's chin.

"N-No."

Anakin's frustration rose. He listened to his master struggling to breathe. "I'm gonna find some way to help you, master. Can you just hang on? Can you hang on for me?" He asked, voice breaking at last.

Obi-Wan hadn't heard the plea. He was already asleep.

* * *

"Master Yoda, I was pointing out a holo-pad he was searching for, and I handed it to him. He looked at it for a little bit, then I felt this uneasy surge in the force. When I looked back over at him, he was unconscious." Anakin related the events to the Jedi master before the entire council. He remembered standing in the middle of the circle between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, being told he wouldn't be a Jedi. He remembered Qui-Gon's shock, the disappointment, and then Qui-Gon declaring he would take Anakin as his padawan. He remembered above everything else, the despair on Obi-Wan's face, couldn't imagine the betrayal and pain he must of felt.

He knew he had to have been completely lost in his memories, for Mace Windu finally had to speak up. "Young Skywalker, I know these few days have been strenuous, but could you please try and maintain focus?"

Anakin was pulled from his daze. "Oh, sorry."

Yoda smiled. "That is alright. We understand. But understand, we do not, how your master contracted this virus."

Anakin's brow knitted. "I don't really know how he did, either. I asked him if he was bit by anything, but he said he hadn't. Maybe there was some epidemic circulating we didn't know about." 

Ki-Adi Mundi shook his tall head at the suggestion. "I'm afraid we have already checked, and there isn't one we know of, young Skywalker. I believe the medics have already told you what they know."

"Which isn't much at all." Anakin said, his confidence breaking away in shards of hopelessness. "What can we do now?"

Mace folded his hands, deep in thought. "Obi-Wan is being closely watched. If anything happens, he'll be taken care of. In the mean time, you have been relieved of your studies until his condition had improved."

Anakin bowed. "Thank you, masters."

Yoda nodded. "Now, sleep I believe you are in need of."

The boy crossed his arms. "I believe you are right." He bowed respectfully, then turned on his heel and left the room. But he knew he wouldn't rest.

He had research to do.

* * *

A medic strapped an oxygen mask to Obi-Wan's face, over his nose and mouth. He sighed, welcoming it to him. His eyelids were so heavy, he allowed them to close...

They opened slowly. Tubes were in his arms, and the mask remained on his face. His head was swimming, and he felt a hand rest on his forehead. At the touch, the confusion he was suffering from came to a halt. All from the single touch. He looked up at who possessed that healing hand, and gasped. His master, Qui-Gon Jinn, stood before him.

"Master?" He asked, bewildered.

Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan smiled, tears threading down his cheeks. "Is it really you?"

At the question, Qui-Gon reached down and enveloped his apprentice in an embrace. Looking at his master's face, Obi-Wan realized he looked much younger. About seventeen years younger. He scanned his location, and realized it was the sickbay on the ship the Monument. Obi-Wan was in the past.

But the happiness he was experiencing in the arms of his master, very much alive, made him forget about everything else. He was overjoyed to be with Qui-Gon again, and he never wanted to pull away. Never.

* * *

Anakin shut a large, dusty book with disappointment. Another text describing the planet Murrif, but nothing of any diseases which had the effect it had on his master. He decided whatever was hurting Obi-Wan was relatively new. And extremely dangerous.

He pushed the books aside, and dashed off to see his master, still bedridden and weak.

"Master." Anakin said quietly, stepping inside the plainly decorated room. Obi-Wan was asleep, and Anakin stepped back at the sight of the man, with a tool to aid him in breathing strapped around his face. 

He took Obi-Wan's hand, and wrapped his own around the frail fingers. "Master?" He called again, a bit frightened he wasn't answering.

* * *

Obi-Wan moaned, pulling his master closer as Qui-Gon tried to break away. "No, you can't go. Not again..."

Qui-Gon shook his head. Anakin appeared beside him, and Qui-Gon's form disenegrated. "Noooo!" Obi-Wan shouted, clawing desperately at the air. "Come back!"

* * *

"Come back!" Anakin's master shouted, but it came out so soft it was hardly raising his voice. Anakin was jerked by the command, coming from the nearly comatose Jedi.

"I'm right here, master."

Obi-Wan's eyes opened and saw his apprentice, standing watchfully over him. But he didn't want Anakin to be there. Not when he could have his master instead. He shut them again, hopeful. But his master wasn't in his mind anymore. "Padawan." He whispered.

Anakin ran his fingers through his master's hair. "Master, what was the matter?"

He asked with concern.

"Oh… nothing. I was just having a nightmare." He lied, trying with all his might to move his leg.

"I'm sorry." Anakin said, feeling enormous sorrow for his master. As if he wasn't going through enough, he had to have bad dreams, too. "They said there isn't any way to treat what you have."

"Because they don't know what's wrong with me." Obi-Wan finished for him. "I know. T-They try to be quiet about it, just whisper it, but I can hear them."

"Master, I want to…" He floundered for the words amid his desperation. "I need to tell you something. But you have to promise not to tell anybody. You can't tell even Yoda." Anakin confessed, taking his master's hand again. "No one."

Obi-Wan nodded painfully. "What is it, Anakin?"

"I'm going back to the planet, the one we just came back from. I'm going to find out what's wrong with you. What-or who-caused it. And I'll get the cure, no matter what it takes." Anakin told his master, his voice in the strongest tone he could muster, attempting to sound adult when he had never felt like such a helpless child.

Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and his breathing slowed. "Master." He said in a sigh, and was unconscious before his padawan could question him.

Anakin laid his master's hand on the chest, and stroked his cheek. "I'll be back, master. I promise." With one look back at him, Anakin left the medical center. And began to ready himself for a secret journey to a planet once called Murrif. 

* * *

Anakin had already procured, actually stolen, a transport in which to get to Murrif, and had packed the items necessary for the trip.

He knew what he was doing could very well get him booted out of the Temple for good, but he didn't care in the least. Saving his master was worth anything. Even his life.

He slung his pack over his back, and tiptoed to the hangar bay. No one had noticed him. _Thank you Force._

Anakin pressed a button, and dashed silently up the ramp. He listened to it hiss close. And he sighed in relief. He had made it. He set the coordinates for Murrif, and took off. 

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi apprentice, had stolen a transport, and alone, was heading for a hazardous world only recently liberated from war. He held his breath as the transport broke from the atmosphere of Coruscant, and into hyperspace.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, were racing beside two friendly Phindians atop a building on the chaotic planet of Phindar. It was their first official mission, and nothing could stand in their way.

"I've missed you, master!" Obi-Wan called to Qui-Gon, who was measuring the distance between two roofs.

"And I you, padawan." His master replied with a smile Obi-Wan had not seen for four long years.

"But everything will be better now that you're back, right?" Obi-Wan asked, not able to suppress his grin…or worry. With Qui-Gon, he felt he could act young again, for the responsibilities which weighted down the shoulders of a Jedi master had been lifted from him. He was happy.

He was free.

* * *

Mace Windu strolled alongside Adi Gallia to a transport ship she would be taking to pick up some vital documents from a near-by planet. He stopped.

The ship was gone.

He excused himself, and sprinted to the apartment level of the temple. Mace was certain of who had taken the transporter. And of that certain padawan's motives. 

* * *

"Can you make it?" Qui-Gon asked his apprentice, surveying the large span between two buildings.

Obi-Wan nodded, his confidence buoyed entirely. "Yes, master." He took three quick bounds, and leaped from the edge. 

He plunged to the ground, looking up to his master, who was dematerializing, replaced by Mace Windu. "He's gone." The dark-skinned Jedi master told the periled padawan in a dull monotone. "Obi-Wan, he's gone."

Obi-Wan tried unsuccessfully to hold back a scream.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi eyes ripped open, and saw Master Windu standing over him. His heart wrenched. His master wasn't there anymore. "Where-where has he gone?"

Mace seated himself beside the bed. "He stole a transport, one Adi Gallia was scheduled to use. This is a violation we of course, cannot overlook."

Obi-Wan's eyes went as wide as they could. "He took a-a transport? Where is he going? I have to go find him!" He attempted to prop himself on his elbows, but slumped back down, overcome by sharp pains raining down on his body.

Mace closed his eyes, and rubbed the lids wearily. "Obi-Wan, you are in no condition. We are certain of where he is headed, and are preparing to search him out."

"No, I have to go. I lost him once, master Windu, I can't lose him again!" Obi-Wan declared, a tear stinging his cheek.

"Don't worry, we'll retrieve your padawan, Obi-Wan." Mace assured him, regretting he had informed the ailing young man in the first place.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, flabbergasted. "Y-you said..." He coughed. "But..."

Windu slid a pillow from under Obi-Wan's head, allowing him to lay flatter, to be comfortable enough to sleep again. "Rest. When you wake, he'll be back."

"But you've taken him from me. You all have. You're responsible for it, not me..." An uneasy feeling took over his stomach, and he thought it was close to revulsion. Rather than face that, he closed his eyes once more, sleep tugging at him. "I'm going to get him back. He'll be back for good. Forever."

* * *

Anakin Skywalker watched the purples and blues of hyperspace burst at him, but ignored the beauty before him. His heart was pounding so hard against his chest, he was sure it was echoing throughout the ship.

He had settled himself snugly into his chair on the transport, which was set on auto-pilot. But he had no intention of resting. His mind was moving faster than a podracer, trying to weed out the cause of his master's pain. There were so many scenarios.

It could be a strange illness no one had heard of, but it was a bit on the unlikely side.

Obi-Wan still could have been bitten by a venomous insect, perhaps during the night when he would not have noticed it.

There were endless possibilities. And he had to investigate them all. Or else he would have to watch his master continue to whither, and die.

* * *

Qui-Gon Jinn brushed his tunic off and pulled on his robe. He cleared his throat and snapped on his boots.

Obi-Wan Kenobi tightened his regulation padawan braid, his eyes never wandering from his master. "Master, where are we going?" He prodded, eager to break Qui-Gon's secrecy.

Qui-Gon cracked a smile. "You'll see, padawan. Are you ready?"

Obi-Wan stood. "I believe so." He secured his lightsabre in the loop of his belt, and took his familiar place beside his master. 

"Then let's be off."

"Right." 

* * *

Mace Windu sat in his seat in the Jedi council chamber, resting his chin on his fist. Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi had not awakened in nearly two days, and frankly he was more than worried. Before, he gave some signs he was aware, such as asking for water or coughing. Now he was still, quiet. Mace couldn't imagine what it was like for Obi-Wan to be trapped inside such a weak body, with such a strong mind.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was losing his strength quickly.

And Mace feared the worse.

* * *

"Master, why won't you tell me where we're going?" Obi-Wan asked, the lessons he was taught of patience fading with his curiosity. 

Qui-Gon chuckled. "It's a surprise, Obi-Wan. And you have always enjoyed surprises, no?"

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. "Well, yes." He admitted sheepishly. " But master, please! I have to know!" He laughed at his own absurd demanding.

Qui-Gon rested a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "When the time comes, my padawan, you will know." His serious tone disappeared, replaced by an energetic resonance. "Now rest up, you have a long journey ahead of you!"

"Yes, my master." Obi-Wan replied automatically, sitting beside his master in the passenger seats on their transport. Yet, seeing his master, the same master he had watched be slain by a sith lord, preparing for a meditation trance, Obi-Wan was too excited to sleep. The wave of relief washing over him allowed everything else to be rushed away from him. The Jedi. The Temple. His apprentice. And the life outside his master's care. Because he knew none of it mattered now that he had attained the happiness he had experienced while under his master's tutelage. None of it mattered anymore.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker set the moderately sized transport down in a deep forest on the planet Murrif. Nearly three days had passed, three days during which he felt his master's living force depleting fast.

The slim boy of thirteen with close-cropped blonde hair and a short padawan braid walked down the ramp of the ship, surveying the climate of the planet from the last time he had been there, only a week or two before. It seemed remarkably peaceful for a planet at war merely one month in the past, but Anakin reminded himself, looks could be _very_ deceiving.

It took him less than an hour to reach the main city of the planet formerly called Murrif. The shops that had been closed and dark were now open and bright, booming with business. He searched down a chain of shops, hoping to find a doctor who could possibly tell him anything about poisonous insects and the like. 

He got his wish.

With wide, disbelieving eyes, he entered the physician's office. A bushy-haired elderly man was sitting at an old desk that appeared almost as ancient as he. Anakin coughed lightly. The man looked up and grinned broadly.

"Aaaah. Greetings!--- I have never seen the likes of you before. You new to these parts?" The kindly gentleman asked..

"Uh, yeah, you could say that." He answered, looking around the room nervously. "I need you to describe to me any insects localized um, here that could cause this illness my good friend is suffering from. Can you?" Anakin inquired hopefully.

"Of course. And for a child, it is free!" He exclaimed.

Anakin smiled, grateful for the old man's generosity. He didn't have many credits to spare. As it is he had to sneak his master's limited supply. "Thank you, you don't know how much this means to me."

"No problem at all. In fact, I could use the work!" He laughed. "You wouldn't believe how boring this profession can be!" 

Anakin watched the old man waddle from behind his desk and pull a book full of file folders from a shelf. "This is the latest, most detailed text on any dangerous Murrifian insects. If your friend has acquired his illness from any of these, you'll know." He handed the hefty book to the boy and led him to his desk. "I have to go out a while. If you find any potential causes, let me know. I can detail the treatment your friend will require."

Anakin nodded, already opening the reference work to begin his research.

He would get the answers he was looking for. He would get the answers his master so desperately needed.

* * *

"I think it's time for you to go home, Obi-Wan." The comment hit Obi-Wan like a fierce blow.

"What do you mean, master? I am home."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Obi-Wan, this isn't your home anymore. You have to move on, accept what happened. Know that your home has changed. Your home is with your apprentice now."

Obi-Wan slouched in his seat. "No, it isn't. Master, you'll always be home to me. And I don't want to leave you again!" Obi-Wan confessed, feeling younger than even Anakin in his confession. 

"There are too many people who need you. Too many who depend on you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon told his distressed apprentice.

"Master, I'm so tired." 

Qui-Gon gripped his padawan's hand. "I know. I know. What you've been through...It has been wearying. I have been with you every step of the way. And I will be even after the day you die. So, you have to go on." 

Obi-Wan blinked hard, trying to keep them focused. "But master, I can't. I'm just really weak...It hurts me too much."

Qui-Gon ruffled the light brown hair. "I know that, too. Those same people that need you, they can help you become stronger. I can't rub out all the pain, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan couldn't comprehend what he was being told. "You don't understand, Qui-Gon. You can! When you were here, I felt so much better than I do now. Something in me- something in me has changed. I'm not who I used to be."

"Yes, you are not. You have broken from the shell of a padawan and have emerged as a Jedi knight. Of course things have changed for you, and they will more as you mature. You may think you were happier with me, and maybe you were, but that doesn't matter now. You have to focus on the present. And I'm not a part of it. You mustn't dwell in the past." The manner in which Qui-Gon spoke reminded Obi-Wan of those lectures from long ago.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore." Obi-Wan remarked bitterly. "You can't stop me."

* * *

Anakin slammed the text onto the desk, grunting with defeat. "It's hopeless!" He cried, pulling at his short blonde hair, frustrated. He bit his lip at the outburst, turning his head to be certain he was alone. To his dismay, he wasn't. The elderly doctor was standing behind him, eyes widened in surprise. He waddled to Anakin with a gentle smile on his aged face. 

"Nothing is hopeless if you keep your faith in yourself." He admonished, sliding the book back onto the shelf.

"That's the problem, sir, I _do _have faith in myself. It's just...How can I feel confident when there is nothing to help me? I haven't found a single thing to aid in my search..." Anakin sighed, drawing in a shuddering breath.

"Hmmm...Perhaps you have a little less faith in others, maybe the person you are trying to help." 

Anakin's brow wrinkled. "No, I'm sorry, I don't think so. He's the strongest person I know."

The doctor laughed lightly. "Well, maybe he appears that way to you, but who knows what he could be hiding inside."

Anakin nodded obediently. But he didn't trust the man's apparent 'wisdom'. He was sick of people telling him the way things really were. Maybe he was young, but he was certain about his own master! "I'll take your words under advisement, and I thank you for your help." He smiled slightly, out of pure politeness, and continued on his journey for Obi-Wan's cure.

* * *

Obi-Wan's eyes were shut, as if to ward off the dark trying to worm its way into the shield he had created here. In the tranquil protection of yesteryears. "I'm…tired." He said again, and anyone who heard it would have believed it.

Qui-Gon rested a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Obi-Wan, do you remember when you were twelve, when you wanted so badly to be my apprentice?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"I remember it too, vividly. You were so earnest, so eager to trust, and be trusted. But at the time, I pushed away my instincts to accept you, because I felt incredibly weary. My life had tired me more than I could of imagined. And I thought I wouldn't be able to handle the responsibilities that came hand and hand with you.

"And yet you changed it for me, you forced me to realize I could take on the challenge you put before me. I'd say it worked out pretty well, wouldn't you?" Qui-Gon chuckled, his grin broad and genuine.

Obi-Wan didn't return the expression. "But master, you are far different than me. You have so much strength, so much willpower..." He trailed off, lost in his admiration of his master, and his own self-loathing.

"And you don't? Obi-Wan, you don't spend over a decade with someone and not notice the person's attributes. I _know_ you can train Anakin to be a fine Jedi knight. Because I have trained you, and you are an _extraordinary_ one." Qui-Gon smiled.

"But master, sometimes he is..."

"And you weren't? Everyone is difficult to deal with at times, everyone has their sore spots. You make your way through them, you learn from them. We become stronger through the trials we face every day, in battle, and in the heart."

Obi-Wan chewed his lip. "But what of my heart? Master, I have wounds, I don't know how they could ever heal."

Qui-Gon smoothed a crease in his tunic. "What wounds, my padawan?" He asked, curious.

"This may sound a bit childish...I'm sure I should have gotten over this about fifteen years ago, but I miss Cerasi. I know I knew her for barely a month, but I loved her nevertheless. All the life and fight she had, it showed me how little I had. I realized how lucky I was, to have a solid support system. Someone was there for me all the time, and she may have had Nield, but no adults. She uncovered my eyes to the fact children, and young people, have a basic need for adults to care for them. I just don't think I could be responsible for something as fragile as a child's spirit. What if I failed him?" Obi-Wan stared at his master, his eyes filled with a yearning he had not seen since the Jedi was a boy of twelve. "I already had to leave all my friends. Garen, Reeft, Bant... I had finally found someone again, a true friend. And then she left me. For some stupid reason, I was angry at her for going away. I thought she had let me down by dying. Selfish, I know."

Obi-Wan looked down at his boots shamefully.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, not at all. You were only a child, too young to be able to handle something as major as what happened to Cerasi and you. As you get older, it is easier for you to accept what next surprise life may bring along."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, rubbing at his eye. "No, master. It doesn't matter what age I may be, death hurts. I will never be able to accept the passing on of people I cared for. I know I can't handle those things well, but I don't care." He clenched a fist unconsciously. "I can't help but be angry at the people that left me."

At the last sentence, Qui-Gon straightened. He didn't need to say the question burning on his lips. Obi-Wan already knew.

"I'm sorry, master. I know nothing that happened that day was your fault, but in some strange way, I blame you. Through everything that happened, Cerasi, Xanatos...You were always there to help me. But when I needed you the most, when I knew the pain couldn't go away, you were gone. And I feel like I've been alone ever since. I was mad at you for allowing yourself to die." Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, regretting divulging his deepest secret. "I understand now that you couldn't help it, that the blow was harsh, but it doesn't stop me from hurting."

Qui-Gon reached over and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, gently rocking them both. "I know. You weren't the only one angry with me for allowing that to happen."

Obi-Wan wiped away a tear with a shaky hand. He looked up at his master quizzically. 

The Jedi master smiled. "I was ashamed I didn't sense the attack, didn't block the move. I was angry and frustrated, because I left you without a master. I wouldn't get to see you face the trials, didn't get to stand beside you as you became a knight, the day we both spent thirteen years preparing for. Worse yet, by the time the 

Sith lord was defeated, I was nearly dead. I had no time to say a proper good-bye, could only tell you to train Anakin. I didn't give you any choice, didn't contemplate as to whether you wanted to or could handle an apprentice when you merely an apprentice yourself.

"And for that, my apprentice, I am truly sorry."

Obi-Wan shook his head, laying it on his master's broad shoulder. "You-You had to do it, master. You were running out of time, and someone needed to take on Anakin. He is the chosen one, after all.

"I'm honored you felt I was worthy of training someone of that much significance to the Jedi, the force, and the universe." Obi-Wan felt a yawn escape him, and his eyes began to flutter.

Suddenly, all his energies were sucked away by his weariness, and he went boneless against his master.

Qui-Gon started to shake Obi-Wan roughly by the shoulders in alarm. "Obi-Wan! You can't go to sleep! If you go to sleep, you'll be lost!" Obi-Wan wasn't responding. "Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to slits, frowning. "It's only now that it comes to me how important Anakin is to the entire universe, and that I cannot be the one to guide him.." His face was pale and drawn, and his speech was slurred. "What if I faltered in my teaching? The things that could happen…He could…So much could…Everything could ...

"Die."

* * *

At that moment, the machines hooked to Obi-Wan in the medic center of the Jedi temple screamed.

* * *

Anakin wandered aimlessly down an alley, at a loss as to what to do. He was certain the cure would have lied in the medical office, but it had been a dead end. There hadn't been a single insect that caused the symptoms his master was being tormented by, nothing even remotely close. 

He kicked at the dirt, a cloud of dust forming from the movement. The doctor's words rose in his mind. **_Who knows what they may be hiding inside._** Anakin tried to fight down the disturbing thoughts, but they were far too strong for him to handle. **_Who knows..._**

Anakin hurled a pebble at a wall with a ragged cry. He was so close to Obi-Wan, how could he possibly not feel the secret if it was so imperative? He couldn't. The old man was probably just trying to scare him, or warn him. The physician didn't know his master, how could he make such assumptions?

"Obi-Wan would have told me if something was bothering him, he wouldn't keep it bottled up inside." He shivered at a gust of chilly wind as it swirled around him.

"Would he?"

There was no answer. Only the questions blazing in his heart, burning his soul.

Mace Windu was torn roughly from his meditating trance when the sound of Obi-Wan's machines broke through his tranquil shields. His eyes ripped open and he shouted instantly for assistance, lifting Obi-Wan's head from the damp pillows.

The door burst open, and a team of medical experts rushed to the Jedi masters' side. They shoved Mace from the bedside and split his sterile gown at the chest. They pressed electric revivers against him, sending shock through his body. His chest jumped at the touch and did repeatedly until a weak heartbeat was shown on the screen.

Mace exhaled when they exclaimed he was still alive, though barely. Obi-Wan was taken from his familiar bed and placed on a wheeled bed. 

"Where are you taking him?" He asked a nurse fiddling with a tube. She looked up with a sympathetic smile.

"Intensive care unit. That was just too close." She plugged the tube in a beeping machine and brushed her hand on his shoulder.

"Come along, we will show you his room." The woman followed the group of physicians as they wheeled Obi-Wan down a long corridor. Mace folded his hands behind his back, watching the concern etched on the medic's delicate face.

"Does he have a chance?" He finally surrendered to his nerves, and inquired.

The woman pulled her hair back with a tie, the sweat glistening on her forehead. "Nothing is for sure, master Jedi, but the future doesn't look very well."

Mace's brow crinkled. "Are they beginning any treatments for him, anything due to the sudden extremeties of the situation?"

"Bacta. The solution for everything, I suppose." She rolled her eyes. "I shouldn't tell you this, but they will give him an injection of bacta. If he shows not improvement, and his apprentice doesn't return, they have been ordered to take him off the machines."

Master Windu turned to the woman in shock. "How could they do this? These are Jedi healers, dedicated to compassion. It is against every ethic of our order to allow this man to just die!" He argued, eyes on fire.

"I know. I have quarreled with them over this many times, and they insist this is the best solution! I have stressed how important it is for them to keep him alive, to help him more than they are, but they are certain they are right." She whispered, watching to make sure they had not overheard. Luckily, they were busied with their task at the moment.

Mace narrowed his eyes at the woman, observing her uneasiness. "What is it? What are you keeping from me?"

She shook her head and leaned in close. "I'll tell you once we are alone."

Mace Windu nodded, scratching his dark brown arm. 

The circumstances were fast becoming immensly complicated.

Obi-Wan carefully lifted his eyelids, seeing his master looking over him worriedly.

He cleared his throat, and in a gradual style, pulled from Qui-Gon's supporting arms to sit independently on a seat. The young man stared at his master disapprovingly.

"Why did you do that?"

Qui-Gon settled his back against a cushion. "Why do you think? Did you truly believe I would allow you to die?"

Obi-Wan's arms intertwined in a broad cross. "Well, not really. But still...Couldn't you just let me be happy? Isn't that what you always wanted for me?"

"Of course I wish you to be happy. Obi-Wan, you probably think dying is the best solution, but it isn't. You have to hold on to the light, your life, and go forth. You just can't stay with me, it isn't your time." Qui-Gon told his apprentice with a gentleness reserved only for Obi-Wan.

"Who are you to say when it is my time? You didn't even know when it was yours, how could you possibly know when it is mine?" Obi-Wan rubbed his eyebrow in annoyance. "Besides, it isn't as if Anakin couldn't get himself a new master. I'm sure there are plenty of masters far more qualified than I who would jump at the chance to be with him. He is so strong, I doubt he depends very much on me in the first place. He has lived without his mother, I think he'd manage without me."

Qui-Gon stood, anger filling him. Though it hadn't been the first time he felt madness course through his body, it was the first incident in quite a long while that had angered him at Obi-Wan. "How could you say that, Obi-Wan!? It is clear to everyone besides you how much Anakin needs you! You talk of how you fear of failing him, and yet you are ready to surrender to the illness inside you, let it whisk you away from everything you have worked so hard for?"

"It is that fear that stops me from fighting this sickness, master." Obi-Wan admitted plainly.

Qui-Gon seized Obi-Wan's hand, and dragged him from his seat. "Than I will show you what your forfeit will do to the people in your life."

With that, he and his apprentice were thrust from the ship into what appeared to be a never-ending light.

Anakin Skywalker slumped to the floor outside the building he had resided in with his master during their stay on Murrif. Through the window, he silently watched a butler hand a tray of food to a guest.

Food.

Anakin jumped from the ground and raced inside.

Once Obi-Wan had been made as comfortable as possible, the attendants had left him alone with Mace Windu, trusting him to remain alert.

Mace crossed his legs, smoothing a wrinkle in the worn fabric of his tunic pants.

The door hissed open, and the female medic entered.

She had stripped of her medic garb, and was now in a lavender tunic with her hair braided simply. She took a seat beside Mace, looking painfully at Obi-Wan.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry I couldn't reveal more before, but I didn't want any unintended ears to hear."

Mace nodded understandingly.

"You see, when I told you they were to take him off the life machines, I was being a bit too vague. Before they allow his body to fail him, they will study it as it slowly kills him. They wish to learn more about his startling affliction, to prevent it from happening ever again."

"That's horrible. Not to mention unfair. This is a human life we are speaking about, not a lab specimen. He is not for study, and I refuse to allow this atrocity to be carried out!" Mace declared, clutching the arms of his seat.

The woman rose, and stood at Obi-Wan's bed. "It is a shame..."

"You have to stall them, um..."

"Fola."

"Fola, you have to distract them, buy me some time!"

Fola nodded, running her hands through Obi-Wan's tangled, sweaty hair. "I will try my best for you." She promised Mace, a smile spread across her face.

"Not for me, but for him."

Fola put a loose strand of her long hair behind her ear and bit her lip. "No, Jedi master, for everyone in the Jedi temple."

Anakin flew through the building until he had located the kitchen. He remembered his master informing a group of people at a banquet of an alergic reaction he had to a certain spice, after the party had urged him to try a tantilizing dish. What was it called? Zan...Zort...Z-Z-Z...Zelt. Zelt!

"

Zelt." Anakin repeated, peeking his head into the food preparation area.

Immediately, a chef strode up to him, balancing two dishes of fine cuisine in his hands. "How may I help you sir?"

Anakin swallowed. "Um, I actually needed to ask you a question. And it's very important, actually."

The chef looked surprised, but attempted to appear unphased. "Yes, anything."

"Well, I need to know if you prepare any meals consisting of the spice zelt."

The chef raised an eyebrow. "I'll have to ask around, I am not aware of every spice we use in our refreshing delicacies." He wheeled around and disappeared behind swinging double doors.

Anakin's eyes were locked on the cooks, busy creating delicious provisions. He licked his lips, the hunger growling in his stomach trumpeting to Anakin's ears. He was weighing as to whether he should risk swiping a morsel or two, when the cook rejoined him.

"We do, in fact, sprinkle a bit or two of zent on a few dishes." He reported.

"That's great! Do you mind telling me what ones?" Anakin asked, swaying a bit to persuade the man to help him further.

"Certainly sir. We use zent in our specialty soup and on zest bread."

Anakin scratched his head in thought. Had his master eaten any soup or bread on their mission? Perhaps he had snuck a bowl during the night, because Obi-Wan was known to abhor giving into his desire to sleep, though he had never mentioned it to his padawan. Anakin often woke to see his master sitting up in his sleepcouch, studying a holopad or something along those lines...Indeed, Anakin had seen Obi-Wan snacking on a muja fruit time and again...

"Thank you, this has been most helpful!" He acknowledged.

"No problem sir, but if you don't mind me asking, what was the reason behind your inquiry?" 

"Oh. My master is very sick, but no one seems to be able to diagnose his illness, or the cause. We came here not too long ago, right before the devastation struck him. He is allergic to zent, and I thought maybe that might have had something to do with all of it."

Anakin took a breath. He had been unresolved if he should tell or not, but it was a harmless chef. A harmless chef that could have very well saved his master's life.

And his own, for that matter.

Because Anakin didn't think he could go on without him.

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes, recovering from the journey. Though he didn't know where he and his master had traveled to.

Qui-Gon rested a hand on his apprentice's shoulder, leading him down a white, glowing hallway.

Obi-Wan gulped a breath. He knew he must of died, and this was his afterlife. He was to be connected, become one, permanently with the force. He was ecstatic, relieved...

Scared. He hastily took his master's hand, gripping it tight in his own.

"M-Master, where are we going? H-Have I died?" He asked shakily.

"Yes, you lost the fight, Obi-Wan. Now you must see what, who, you left behind." He turned the knob of a door that had appeared as if by magic.

The pair stepped inside, and a swirl of mist met them. It slowly evaporated, revealing a scene.

Anakin Skywalker, thirteen, was sitting outside a building, hugging himself, almost like he was cold. But the street appeared warm and sunny.

"Master, has Anakin perished as well?" Obi-Wan looked with concern at his apprentice.

"No, but he might as well have." Qui-Gon anwered soberly.

"What do you mean?"

"He is in Murrif as we speak, searching desperately for a cure for you. He stole a transport, Obi-Wan, and is risking being banned from the temple and the Jedi order forever. He has found a possible answer to that mysterious illness, but he isn't rushing back to the ship to return and give the news.

"He isn't because he has felt the bond you two share sever, and fears the worst."

Qui-Gon stared at the boy's slim form. "Look at the despair in his eyes, Obi-Wan. He has done all he could, and thinks he has failed you."

Obi-Wan watched helplessly as a tear fell unheeded down Anakin's smooth cheek.

He looked up at his master, still surveying the wrenching sight.

"F-Failed me? But..."

Qui-Gon turned and signaled Obi-Wan to follow. "Come, we should let him alone with his sorrow."

Obi-Wan left the room with the haunting sound of Anakin's sobs pounding in his ears.

"It's been nearly a week, Fola, we have to let it go. This research could be vital." Nullt, the head medic behind the idea of using the young Jedi as a tool in medical study, told her.

"How could you be so cold and unfeeling, Nullt? He is so full of promise..."

He shook his head. "But his body isn't cooperating the way we would of liked."

Fola glared at the physician. "I think it is doing exactly the way you would of wanted it to! You'd be devistated if you lost him, if he came out of this alive. Then how would you be able to use his body for your own medical exploration? Who cares if there is a kind, decent human being inside? This is merely a scientific task!" She blurted out mockingly.

Nullt took a step back. "Exactly, Fola. I'm sure he is nothing more than a body by now, anyway. I hardly believe a mind, even as strong as his is said to be, could withstand what he has been through. It is time to alert loved ones and such, which is your department, young medic." He turned on his heel, leaving Fola fuming.

And devising a plan to save the young Jedi knight.

Obi-Wan heard his footsteps clack against the hard ground of the Jedi council chamber, where he presently stood. All twelve council members sat before him, but no one took the slightest notice of him.

Master Yoda, in particular, was enveloped in his sadness, his eyes red rimmed and morose.

Qui-Gon looked upon the solemn group, then glanced at his astonished apprentice, who had his mouth open in shock.

Mace Windu was resting his forehead on the palm of his hand, and Ki Adi Mundi's features made it seem as if he was sleeping- or in great emotional pain.

Obi-Wan gaped at his master powerlessly. "I've never seen them this way, Master." 

Qui-Gon nodded, laying a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "That is because they have never experienced such grief in quite a long while, for today they are mourning a great friend."

Obi-Wan was barely aware of the shakes running through his body at top speed. "M-Master, I never imagined..."

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan by the arm. "Oh, but there is more to see."

Obi-Wan didn't argue, simply allowed his master to lead him to yet another picture of heartache.

Anakin Skywalker collapsed into a chair outside the kitchen. He jotted down the names of the meals containing zent, the information far too important to trust his memory. He yawned, stretching his slightly scrawny arms. The padawan felt the sudden urge to sprawl over the vacant seats beside him and simply let sleep take him away. Wash away the worry and terror threatening to drown him. If only he could have a breath of happiness...

He slapped his forehead angrily. How could he be so self-centered. To think, he was dwelling on his own tiny plights when his master was lying in a medic center barely grasping onto life. If he was even still alive...

"

What's wrong with you, man?" 

"What are you on about?"

Anakin sat straight up, his back resembling a board. He knew the second voice. It was the waiter he had spoke with earlier. He strained his ears to listen.

"We don't even have zent on this planet! Why'd you lie to that kid? You know expensive that stuff is, plus the shipping fees..."

"I'm well aware of our lack of zent, you imbicile." He replied calmy, injecting a subtle evil. "I wasn't going to tell that Jedi brat that."

"Jedi? Really?"

"Yeah, a rotten Jedi." He sounded as if he were chewing something sour in his mouth. Anakin could imagine the scowl. "I hate their guts. My father was murdered by the scum bags and my mother lost her arm when they invaded our house, mistaking it for a fugitive's hideout. I'll never forgive those hypocritical lunatics. Never."

"But, what about the zent?"

"The zent was a convenience, my friend. I poisoned that kid's master a few weeks ago. From my own secret recipe." He announced proudly. "It's untraceable...And quite effective. In fact, that Jedi loser was the first to sample it. I'd love to see him suffering, like I did."

Anakin could hardly swallow, his outrage blocking passage. _Quite effective._ The waiter had poisoned his master with an unknown toxin, with undiscovered results. He started sprinting from the building, heading at top speed back to his transport. The council would be astonished at his findings...

He stopped in his tracks. He had yet to acquire the antidote.

If there is one...

Fola pushed stubborn strands of hair behind her ear as she dashed down the temple halls, looking feverishly for the one called Mace Windu.

She knew her time was running out, and the young Jedi's life depended soley on the quick actions of her and the dark-skinned master. Nullt was planning to take Obi-Wan off the support which enabled him to hold on to life in a matter of hours.

She had precious few hours to save him. Now if she could only find that Windu character.

As if her wish had been granted, the chesnut colored Jedi strolled out of a meditation chamber, his brows set in an intent furrow.

"Oh, at last you're here!" She exclaimed, trotting over to him. "We have to get Obi-Wan out of here, and fast. Nullt will be pulling all the plugs in a sparse number of hours."

Mace nodded at the news, leading the way to the medic center.

When they reached the sterile room, Fola's mouth dropped open.

The bed was empty.

"He's gone." Mace announced, despair filling his words.

Fola shook her head, smoothing a bump on her hair nervously. _We're too late._

Anakin Skywalker flattened himself on a brick wall of the building, waiting patiently for the arrival of his vile acquaintance, the waiter from the kitchen. His hand rested trustfully on the hilt of his lightsabre, prepared for threatening the disgusting man if necessary. It wouldn't bother him in the least.

Anakin rubbed his chin in thought, a trait he had picked up from Mace Windu. He knew goosebumps were prickling up his arms and legs, and his cheeks were flushed.

Obi-Wan had weakened considerably in the short while Anakin had been gone, his pain not increasing exactly...In fact, it was almost as if he was being blocked out from the pain.

It was possible he had put himself in a hasty healing trance, or thrown up protective shields. But that required tremendous strength. Strength Obi-Wan didn't possess. Anakin couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he thought someone was hiding him away from the agony he should be in.

But who could do that? Anakin had attempted the exact endeavor, but had failed. Who else? No one was as close to Obi-Wan as his own padawan, not since...

It couldn't be. Qui-Gon could not do this!

He shook his head, releasing the crazy notion to the wind.

Just then, the waiter pressed a blaster against his neck. "Were you gonna ambush me, little Jedi?" He shoved the barrel harder into the flesh. "Funny, I guess we're not as different as we thought. Because I was planning the exact same thing!"

"How could he be gone?!" Fola's voice was edging on a scream. "Nullt wasn't supposed to pull him off life support for another couple of hours!" She curled and uncurled her fingers, feeling an anger rise in her.

"Nullt didn't take him, Fola." Mace said quietly.

"What do you mean? I hope you're not implying that he got up by himself, because if you are..."

Mace put up a hand to stop her. "Fret no longer, Fola. I've taken him to my quarters. He'll be safe there." He assured the woman. "They would not dare break into the residence of a distinguished member of the Jedi council."

Fola grinned. "Fast thinking, Mace. You have saved him."

Any hint of a smile on Windu's face disappeared. "He's far from out of the woods, Fola. Is there any way we can help him from here?"

"I think we could administer more bacta, if you decide it could help. I personally, believe bacta is of no use in the current situation."

Mace nodded. "And there are no ways to stimulate him, somehow urge him out of this prolonged period of sleep?"

"None."

Mace considered this for a moment. "So the only thing we can really do now is sit at his side, praying for a miracle?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then I suppose we will be praying for more than one."

"What are you d-doing?" Anakin asked, gritting his teeth.

The waiter's finger never ceased to rest on the trigger of his deadly weapon. "I am about to the rid the galaxy of yet another Jedi nuisance."

Anakin Skywalker shut his eyes tight, preparing for his final moments in the world of the breathing.

The blaster exploded, sending a bullet hurdling towards Anakin's neck.

He was a split second before the waiter, deflecting the shot smoothly, the blue blade sending the bullet flying the other direction.

In an instant the blaster clattered to the ground, and Anakin held his lightsabre dangerously close to his foe's neck. "There is only one thing stopping me from beheading you. I want the antidote to the poison you gave my master. And I don't like to wait." He loaded intimidation in his voice, not yet muscular from puberty.

The waiter yawned. "Foolish little Jedi. There is no antidote. Your precious master is already lost."

Anakin faltered, then pushed the waiter to the ground. "I know you are lying to me. I don't have time for this. My master needs this, and you are aware of what will happen if you don't obey my order." He looked the dispicable man squarely in the eye. "I want the antidote."

The waiter chuckled, a repulsive guffaw. "And how will you know if it is fake or not?"

Anakin smiled. "Because you will test it. And if you don't come out alive, I'll explore my other options."

The ridiculous grin faded from the waiter's face. "Don't worry, little Jedi. You don't have any."

Nullt ran a comb through his wet brown hair, surveying his reflection. He smiled, opening the door to his private fresher.

While his exterior was calm and submissive, he was actually excited beyond any reason. The research done with the use of the Jedi's body could open a door to an entire new world of medicine...and his own heavy exposure.

Soon he would be adored by everyone in the field of medical treatment, once he had discovered the disease which had prematurely ended Obi-Wan Kenobi's life.

He was slightly worried at Fola, who had strongly championed the cause of the dying Jedi. But he had waited far too long for an opportunity of this magnitude. It wasn't going to be passed out to watch a knight fall deeper into a coma.

He was a Jedi, yes. A quite accomplished one, so he heard. And he was also a member of the order. He had a responsibility to uphold to do all he could to save a fellow Jedi from oblivion...

But there were other things.

He peeked around the corners, finding them clear of any potential witnesses. He ducked inside Obi-Wan Kenobi's room, hearing an unfamiliar absence of sound. The sound of the beeping of the machines straining to keep his lungs in constant activity, as well as his unwilling heart.

It was completely silent.

Kenobi's bed was empty, the sheets displaying a groove from his normally still body.

His first thought was he had risen and went in search of help. But he would have been far too weak. No, the only answer was the one that erased a tiny mark in his conscience.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had already died.

Anakin and the waiter reached a dilapidated shack, which Anakin resolved to be his laboratory of sorts. His heart beat a little steadier as his nerves let up. He had found the cure. It was only a matter of time.

The waiter bit his lip. He had been rumbled. It was over, he dare not try anything now. Unless...

Anakin Skywalker safely stowed the vial of antidote in his tunic pocket, setting the coordinates for Coruscant. _For home._

The waiter had immediately surrendered to the poison, injecting the solution to relieve the pain. Anakin had grabbed it and flogged the man with the hilt of his lightsabre in case he decided to take foolish action.

In a few days, Obi-Wan's suffering would be relieved. And Anakin could be sent away from the order forever due to his severe disobedience.

Nullt strolled up to Folla, the young and inexperienced medic who was undoubtedly crushed by the sudden sever in Obi-Wan Kenobi's lifeline.

"It was all for the best, Fola. He was in so much pain, it would of been an enormous cruelty to let him lay there and writhe in such agony." Nullt created a skin of somberness over his eyes to shield her from any pleasure that could shine in them.

"I suppose you are right, Nullt. Haven't you always been?" A tear glistened on her cheek, and he moved to wipe it from the smooth, delicate skin.

She slapped his hand away.

"Excuse me?" He retorted, taking a step back.

"You didn't give the tiniest care if he lived or died, Nullt. It didn't matter that he was a person, with a mind, and with dreams. That he had people who cared and depended on him." She accused through gritted teeth. "Because what's the value of life compared with new realms of science?!"

Nullt's jaw was tense. "It wasn't like that, and you know it Fola. He was already so far gone, I never even had to pull the plugs!"

Nullt's eyes widened. Mace Windu had turned the corner at that moment, hearing the confession. His brows were set in an outraged raise. "What was that, Nullt? Were you planning on letting Obi-Wan die?"

The medic avoided eye contact with the intimidating Jedi master, whom was at least two decades older than him. "I am trying to explain that Obi-Wan was gone in every way except his body, and even that was starting to give out!" He reasoned, his fists clenched in frustration. "I could risk losing the chance to study what has caused this whither in him, why we have never encountered it before! Think about this, Fola. Really think about it. Is it actually worth keeping him alive? A vegetable? Or is it worth more to save those who will die of what is killing him if we don't use this tragedy as a blessing!"

Fola closed her eyes and looked away, trying to grasp hold of some composure. His sense was blinded by the own personal gains he would have. 

"The only blessing I could see from this is when you are banished from the temple for this atrocious deed, medic Nullt." Mace Windu said, folding his hands.

Nullt rolled his eyes, tired of their refusal to see things in his way. He threw Mace across the room with a swift kick. Fola immediately jumped on his back, delivering hasty blows to his head, neck, and shoulders. He winced at the pain, then struggled against the female medic.

When a shadow fell upon the floor, Nullt looked up to see a young boy, barely thirteen, standing with his hands resting on his hips. "Stop! What are you doing?!" He shouted, dashing to Windu's side.

Mace took in Anakin with glassy eyes, having coming into painful contact with the wall. "Perhaps I will overlook your insubordination, young Skywalker, if you help us."

He said with a grin.

Anakin nodded, sliding his lightsabre out of his belt and watched the sky blue glow emerge. "Let her go!" He commanded, holding his weapon with forewarning. Nullt sent Fola sliding onto the floor, and crossed his arms defiantly.

"I admire your bravery, boy. But I'm afraid you're too late. Your master is already dead." He said, void of any emotion.

Anakin barely heard his lightsabre clack against the ground, and swallowed, a sharp pain following in his throat. "No...No. It cannot be true."

Nullt smiled with a wickedness that caused Fola's stomach to churn. He turned from them, and strolled casually down the hall.

Anakin sunk to his knees, his breath coming in hitches. "H-He can't b-be dead...He j-just can't..."

Mace touched the wound on his head gingerly. "Anakin, Obi-Wan is still alive. We just had to hide him so they wouldn't kill him." He explained.

"Kill him? Why would anyone here want to kill my master?" He asked, confusion masking his relief.

"They wanted to study the unidentified virus that attacked him."

"I---I went back to Murrif. Against your wishes, I'm sorry to say. But, I have the antidote with me, h-he was poisoned by a waiter." He unearthed the vial from his tunic with a smile that teetered between relief and anxiousness. 

Mace and Fola's eyes brightened. They both stood. "Well, come along, then. We have to give this to him at once." Fola exclaimed, squeezing Anakin's shoulder.

Anakin jumped up, and raced down the corridor. Everything was going to be alright.

A hot, stubborn tear slid down Obi-Wan's cheek, and he felt the salty taste wash around in his mouth. He watched one fall to the floor, and imagined his heart as it broke. The young initiate buried his head in his pillow, trying desperately to escape the rest of the galaxy. A galaxy, and a life, which had suddenly changed. For the worse.

His shoulders shook with a sob he dare not allow to be heard, not by anyone. Not even Bant could see him this way. For how could anyone living inside the Jedi temple understand his plight? They all had time left, time remaining to secure a master.

But he had ran out of time. And so he had to leave his home, his friends, and everything familiar that he loved to watch plants grow for the rest of his existence. They had tried to drill the impression into his head that he would still be serving the Jedi in an honorable method.

Yet, he couldn't help but allow his anger to come out of its dormancy. What were the years of lightsabre practice, the lessons he had learned over and over, until they had laid the foundation of his heart, the morals he would live by? Plants would never give him reason to reach out to the dark side, never cause him to use his knowledge.

The anger.

Perhaps it _was_ his morals that kept him from hating the one who had stomped his dreams, reducing the blazing flame to ash. No, he had no disdain for Qui-Gon Jinn. Partly because he still wished the Jedi master to burst into his room and announce his mind had been changed somehow. That he would be a Jedi, under his tutelage. 

But the door remained closed.

And his heart remained aching.

"Yes, Qui-Gon. I can do it. I _will_ do it." Obi-Wan said, all his energies absorbed into opening the seal, knowing he would die by pressing the collar around his neck against it. He didn't fear death, though at one time he had. His life was obsolete compared to the life of Qui-Gon, the people who would be blown away if he were to back down.

He wanted so badly to be a Jedi, noble and honorable. To die this way would be as gallant as a Jedi could be. He had no conflict in his mind. He knew the task ahead. Knew it would be his last.

"I won't allow it." Qui-Gon argued. "I'll use the force to neutralize the collar."

Obi-Wan smiled at Qui-Gon's dismay. "You won't be able to. I know I can fight you, and win. Maybe just this one time. But this time I'm right, and you are not. Let me go, Qui-Gon. It is my time." Obi-Wan was a bit surprised at how calm and confident he sounded, despite the fact he would die in a few minutes.

But he wouldn't die that day.

Qui-Gon pushed the circles together with the force, opening the shield with ease.

Obi-Wan let out a relieved breath. He still had his life.

"You would have died for me. You courage was extraordinary, even for a Jedi. I would be honored to accept you as my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"I accept, Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

Obi-Wan grinned, feeling a comfort as his new master rested a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. He had the family and future he had hoped for, the dream he thought had faded the moment he set foot on Bandomeer.

He had worked so hard to get where he was now, nothing could stop him now. He would be the best Jedi ever, he promised himself silently. He would be a legend among the order. And he would honor the master who had given him a second chance.

Qui-Gon Jinn would never regret his choice in a padawan.

Obi-Wan Kenobi saw his reflection in the bright, eager eyes of his former self. What he saw staring at him made him sick. How could he be so selfish. How could he let down that boy that had toiled and strived, just because he was tired?

And why would he put shame upon the name Qui-Gon Jinn? Why would he dishonor his master for such a flimsy reason? He couldn't.

There had been times before in his life, times when he thought it was over. Thought it wasn't worth the fight. But then he found it was, didn't he?

It was now, he concluded. He wouldn't give up. Not now, not ever.

Then he remembered. 

"Master, why would you show me all this if I have already died?" He asked, a bit irked Qui-Gon would put him through an emotional trial if it was too late in the first place.

"Obi-Wan, you have just answered your own question. It's all up to you. You can surrender to your weary body and allow yourself to be sucked into a dreary place, without the comfort of your friends and apprentice. Or, you can gather the inner strength I know you have, and you can give it your all."

Obi-Wan studied his master's face, the face he had longed to gaze upon for four years. Four years he had let himself wallow in loneliness, he wouldn't add another. It was time to go home.

He shut the glowing door, and headed toward the light, toward the life.

Then, he straightened, and ran back to his master.

Obi-Wan Kenobi threw his arms around Qui-Gon Jinn, holding tightly onto his master for the last time in a long while. 

After a moment had passed, Qui-Gon tried to withdraw from the embrace, but Obi-Wan pulled harder. Qui-Gon chuckled, stroking his apprentice's hair slowly, kissing the crease between his eyebrows. "You have to go now, my apprentice. Don't worry, we'll meet again soon enough."

Obi-Wan nodded, and gradually took the steps back to the light, to fight for the life he had almost given up.

Fola took the vial of antidote from Anakin Skywalker's hand and watched the water spurt out. Mace Windu rolled the sleeve of Obi-Wan Kenobi's hospice gown up, watching with a grimace as she plunged the needle the young Jedi's arm.

Anakin waited with sweet anticipation for his master to stir, for he knew the affect from the solution would be immediate. But as the minutes crawled by, nothing happened.

"I-I don't understand. The antidote was tested, it had perfect results really fast. I-I..." He stopped, coming to the horrible realization. He had been tricked. This wasn't the cure. Not for the poison infecting his master, anyway.

Then, the monitors' warnings sounded, and his master's chest revolted, ceasing to move. And everything went black.

Anakin Skywalker rubbed his eyes as the objects in the room came into a slow focus. He lifted his head from the pillow he had found under him, twisting his neck around. He was alone, save for his master.

His master.

Anakin leaped to his feet, ignoring that he had been unconscious on the floor moments earlier. He stopped at his master's bedside. "Master." He whispered softly, his hand moving unnoticed to Obi-Wan's wrist, checking for a pulse.

He exhaled when he felt the rhythmic beat against his finger. Anakin ran a hand over Obi-Wan's damp hair, seeing the oxygen mask no longer was strapped around his face. "Master..." He tried again, tracing the line of his master's lower lip. "Y-you have to be strong for me..." He whispered, breaths shallow and shaky.

"Oh, but he has been strong, young Skywalker. Very strong." The medic Fola stood at the door, silk hair fallen perfectly over her shoulders. "It's amazing he was able to endure all he did, and survive. That poision was unbelievably powerful, and with all due respect, your master should be dead about now." She grinned.

Anakin smiled. "But he isn't. How'd he do it?"

"I guess you'll just have to ask him when he wakes, young Skywalker. I hope you are prepared for a long wake. Despite his stength, this ordeal has left him weaker than ever." She turned to leave. "But I'm confident he will recover, given the time."

Anakin heard the door shut, sweeping away any sounds. Leaving him in the silence he wished would be filled with his master's voice.

"Y-You deliberately disobeyed the council, Padawan."

Anakin jerked awake, thrown from his slumber by the slight noise, the soft voice coming through the dark. He remained still, testing as to whether he had dreamt it.

"E-Everyone was worried. S-Something c-could of happened to you, Anakin. Where would that have left me? Hmmm? I don't think that would have been permissable, do you?" Obi-Wan's words were hardly coherent, coming out as a sleepy garble. "As if I didn't have enough to w-worry about, you go and run off! Sometimes I wonder how I ever brought m-myself to accept such an irresponsible a-a-apprentice."

Anakin beamed, forgetting his master's condition in its entirety. He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's neck, squeezing tight onto the person he could have so easily lost to a tragic fate. "Don't you ever tire of being _so_ courageous, master?" Anakin joked.

Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered open for him to speak. "Well, someone has to do it!" He exclaimed, laughing weakly. "And do you ever tire of being so stubborn, padawan?" Obi-Wan shot back, referring to Anakin's trip to Murrif.

Anakin smiled sheepishly. "Master, you were dying. No one was going to do anything about it! Did you really expect me to sit back and watch you go?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I suppose n-not. But n-next t-t-time, remember your safety is much more important to me t-than anything e-else in the univ-verse." He closed his eyes, Qui-Gon's face immediately jumping up at him. And though he expected the yearning to return, it didn't. Because he found he would be with him again, and when he did, it would be forever.

"Master, did you dream at all during the time you were asleep?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan smiled. "No, padawan. I-I remembered, and with the help of an old friend, I know where my future lies."

Anakin's nose crinkled. "Where?"

"Where do you think?" Obi-Wan gave a heavy pant, knowing his limited energies were giving out. He grasped his apprentice's hand. "Home."

Fin


End file.
